Wild No Wilderness Poem by Sadie Moon

In the city, the soft rain reminds me of the wild lands
The seagulls cries timid echoes of their sea kin
and the swish of traffic a cruel ocean.

The old lands, every inch known to man
strange beings still emergent and seen
in the blink of tired rain filled eyes

The old stones witnessed the fearful
first people, cruel priests demanding sacrifice
to those beings even still present today.

The old precious stories and mysteries
told and to be told, sung and given to those
who will let their true selves feel them.

In the city, let the sheep runs overlay the paths
overlay the tracks, overlay the streets.
A winding lane becomes the wild land
and the traveller shudders in fear.